


Standing Firm

by IsaWritings



Category: Glee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 05:41:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4007980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsaWritings/pseuds/IsaWritings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: When Kurt runs into the alley to help/save a stranger during Bash, he finds out it is not a stranger getting attacked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Standing Firm

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a prompt someone sent me. Obviously, the story takes place during "Bash" and it's slightly AU.
> 
> Have fun!

**Standing Firm**

No one saw. No one looked. They might have heard. But no one looked.

One after the other, they turned a blind eye as two men dragged their unwilling victim into the shadows of a dark alley. Like too many times before in the past, nobody dared look when the menganged up on their prey. Instead, like true New Yorkers, they averted their eyes, not wanting to get involved in something that obviously wasn't any of their business.

One person, however, did see. When he heard the telltale sounds, he looked up, not away. Then again, he wasn't a typical New Yorker, not yet. He hadn't become numb yet, hadn't learned not to get involved yet. That was something he didn't _want_ to learn. After all, he had spent too much time and effort in the past fighting against bullies to just walk away now. To Kurt Hummel, it didn't matter who was getting attacked, in what way or even why. He refused to dismiss it, not if there was some way he could help.

But what really made his blood boil was when he heard them using the same slurs he had always been treated to in homophobic Ohio, making the matter even more personal than before. All those times he had found himself wishing someone would look and actually _see_ ; wishing someone, anyone, would help him instead of pretending nothing was amiss. The sheer despair he had felt when he kept trying to stand up, only to be pushed down again; when he strove to make a change, only for his attempts to be thwarted over and over again. The devastation gunning him down when they were all brutally reminded of what they had left behind, when he was forced to accept that maybe New York wasn't as different as he had always taken it to be.

Kurt knew what he had to do. He had to stop wishing and start doing. If New York wasn't the safe haven he wanted it to be, he'd do everything within his power to make it safe. New York was the city where dreams came true. But Kurt knew better than anyone that dreams didn't just come to you; you had to work hard to fulfil them. So, no, Kurt wasn't going to stand idly by. Not this time. Not ever.

“Hey!”

As Kurt ran, the shadows cast by the buildings towering over them shifted and he could make out more of the situation. The small alley was littered with garbage cans and there was a pickup truck blocking the exit. But his attention was on the three figures in front of it. They were all men. Two of them seemed to be typical macho men who felt they had to assert their manliness by staying away from anything even remotely fashion-conscious and, apparently, by harassing someone they seemed to consider a threat to their masculinity. Although as far as defending himself went, the third guy, who was mostly blocked from sight, was in no way inferior to his attackers. He was putting up a hell of a fight, even getting in a few hits of his own every now and then. But it was obvious he was no match for his assailants, doubling over with a grunt when they struck him in the stomach. It wasn't a fair fight, anyone could see that.

None of them appeared to have heard Kurt shouting the first time, but as he ran up to them, the assailants finally looked up, caught by surprise. They obviously hadn't been expecting anyone to intervene. It was New York City after all. Seeing his chance thanks to the distraction, their victim broke away, stumbling out of the shadows and thus finally allowing Kurt a better look.

He was wearing what looked like a black coat with the collar of a greyish cardigan peaking out from underneath, and yellow trousers. Kurt knew those clothes. He had seen them before, that very morning even, on his fiancé. When his eyes snapped up to look at the man's face, they were met with eyes he had been hoping not to see right now.

Seeing him nearly stopped Kurt dead in his tracks, but his momentum kept him moving forward. The young countertenor was barely aware of what he was doing. All he could focus on was Blaine who was now standing behind him. The way he was clutching his own arm, which was hanging limply by his side. The pain in his eyes, but also the relief. The fear and the determination. And, probably worst of all, the recollection and resignation of one who already had too much experience in this particular area. If anything, it gave Kurt all the more reason to stand up for the gay community. To show Blaine that he wasn't alone in this. And to show the world that he refused to be indifferent, regardless of who was suffering, whether it be himself, his fiancé or a stranger on the street.

That night, of the four men entering the alley, only two remained, one on the ground, the other sitting next to him, hoping, wishing, begging for someone, just one person, to look up from the ground in front of their feet and _see_.

**The end.**


End file.
